


Slaves Don’t

by SparkCatcher



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Thor (Marvel), Angry Tony Stark, Beating, Eventual Loki/Tony Stark, Hurt Tony Stark, Master/Slave, Slave Loki (Marvel), Slavery, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony is very angry, Torture, and a little dark at first, and depressed, hopefull things will get better, loki is very sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-01 04:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkCatcher/pseuds/SparkCatcher
Summary: Thor banishes Loki to Jotenheim. After years of torture The Jotun King decided to place a slavery spell on Loki. He is to be bound to the person that hates him the most. Everyone, including Loki himself, expects the spell to bind him as a slave forever more to Thor. Ironic justice, bound as a slave to the very person who sent him away.But what if Thor is not the person who hates Loki the most?OrLoki is bound to Tony as his slave. Tony is violent and unpredictable. He hurts Loki and punishes him for the events in New York. He blames him for the death of thousands of people. He blames him for the chaos and destruction he brought to earth. And he takes his anger out on Loki tenfold.However all is not as it seems. Someone has been pulling the strings in Loki’s life.*Updated once a week every Saturday*





	1. Prologue- The Spell is Cast

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy my first ever Marvel fanfiction. Please leave suggestions on what you would like to see in the story!

Loki cowered. It was almost time for the spell to be placed on him. He shivered. The mere thought of it was enough to make him sick to his stomach. 

 

The King has decided his training had been taken as far as it could be. Loki felt he had to agree. Where he once felt fury at his sentencing, he now felt little more than apathy and numbness. 

 

Soon he would be back in the palace he was once a prince of. Pain struck his heart as he thought of Thor. After Thor had found out what he had done, he had been furious. Loki had never seen his brother angrier. In his fury, Thor had banished him to the Jotenheim realm. He was denounced as an Asgardian, and sent back to “your realm.” 

 

“Loki, the spell is to begin.” His heart began to race and his palms felt slick. He had been told in great detail by the king what this spell would do. An ancient ritual, it connected to the person holding the most negative of emotions for Loki. The spell would enslave Loki to them, to live his life in servitude. 

 

And he could thing of only one person it would be most likely to end up binding him to. 

 

‘Thor’ he thought in despair. 

 

He could only imagine what his brother’s wrath would bring down upon him. He remembered Thor’s hateful words as he banished him. He had rejected Loki as his brother, and bellowed at him how disappointed Frigga would have been with him. The beating Thor had inflicted upon him had been nothing compared to the unending spew of vicious words. Although the bruises had lasted for weeks, they had eventually faded. First black, the brown, green and eventually his own pale skin. Although in Jotenheim it had never remained that way for long. The king had never hesitated to punish him, for real or imagined misdeeds alike. 

 

Thor’s words stayed with him even now, and he had never felt so lonely before. Thor had always been the one person he could depend on, and he now knew he was alone in the universe. There was no longer anyone in the nine realms who would defend him. Why would they? He was worthless and a disappointment to everyone. He often wished he could simply end his own life. He had attempted it almost as many times. 

 

His attention was returned to the audience and King. He was chained on his knees, the heavy manacles weighing his thin body down. His body, once strong and lean, was now weak. His face was gaunt and his ribs were on display for everyone to see. They pressed heavily against his bruises. He barely noticed the pain. It had become a regular part of his life. 

 

In a sick sort of way, he almost liked it. It grounded him. Helped him remember his guilt. He deserved this. And he knew he would never forget that. 

 

The citizens of the realm had gathered around the ice palace to watch the iconic event. The once revered son of the All Father was now to be placed under a spell that had not been used on prisoners for centuries. And to think, the ex-prince would be enslaved to his own adopted brother. A slave in the household he was once raised in. 

 

After all, who would hate Loki more than the man who had banished his own brother to an enemy realm. There was almost no question in the minds of the king and onlookers that the spell would Loki enslave Loki to Thor. 

 

A light began to emanate from the spell-caster’s hands. Slowly, it began to grow. At first it appeared white, however at closer look the center was a rich ruby colour. The chanting continued, getting louder. The light grew. Eventually, he had to tear his eyes away from the front. 

 

His eyelids closed, and he bowed his head. He suddenly realized what was about to happen. He would appear directly in front of Thor, no matter what the other man was doing. He could only imagine what Thor would do to him. If his previous beating had been any indicator, he was sure there was nothing left of the once fierce loyalty and dare he say love Thor one held for him. 

 

His eyes began to sting, and tears built up behind them. He blinked, and they fell gently. He tried to lift his hands to wipe them, but they were still bound behind him. The light burned his retina. His heart pounded. The fear of what was to come was overwhelming. He neither expected nor wanted mercy. He deserved everything that had happened and was to come. 

 

He held no hope. 

 

Thor would show him not mercy. And he deserved none. 

 

The air picked up around him. His bare shoulders fell the cold. He felt the ground shaking. This was it. His body felt weightless for a moment. It was like flying. He wished he could remain forever in this moment. It felt like he was flying. In a split second, the sensation of weightlessness ended, and he felt the ground reappear beneath his knees. 

 

He collapsed in a heap, and couldn’t help but cry out in pain. He quickly silenced himself. Slaves did not make noise. 

 

He kept his eyes closed, attempting to deny the reality. When he opened them he knew what he would see. Thor’s furious face, his hands grabbing him, punishing him, delivering justice to him. Although he knew it was all deserved, he was scared nonetheless. 

 

His breathe caught in his throat. He shivered. This was it. Head still bowed, he slowly opened his lids.

 

“What... What the Fuck?”

 

Loki’s heart stopped. That was not Thor’s voice. He almost wished it had been. This situation had never crossed his mind. Terrified, he felt a lump in his throat. His life was over. Or as good as. 

 

There would be no mercy for him. 

 

Almost simultaneously as the thought crossed his mind, the metal connected with his cheek. The cold, hard material made impact on the side of his face with devastating impact. Loki went flying through the air, landing meters away. At first he felt nothing, then the pain erupted. His cheek felt like it was being held over a flame, and he could feel the throbbing spread across his skull. He whimpered in near silence. 

 

 He lifted his head. As he expected, his eyes met the glowing ones above him. His arms and legs remained bound.  A red and gold fist was raised again, and Loki could do nothing but lie there and take it. He wouldn’t have tried to move even if he could. He had learnt that lesson quickly. 

 

Slaves did not resist. 


	2. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony beats Loki, quite harshly. This chapter is quite dark and was difficult to write. Poor Loki is really getting the worst of it right now. Warning for violence, a panic attack and vommiting in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the chapter. Decided to release it a day early. Couldn't bear making you wait any longer. Enjoy!

Again and again, the impact struck his body. Hard, merciless fists and feet rained down upon his body. Again and again, Starks feet pounded his back. The pain was excruciating. As he lay on the ground, he saw an armored boot being lifted above his head. Burning, his muscles seized up in a useless attempt at preventing to inevitable. 

 

CRACK 

 

A scream tore from the back of his throat as he both felt and heard the shattering of a rib. 

 

He should have known this was the fate he would be left too. Now that he was in the situations, Starks Midgardian abode, it was so obvious he cursed himself for being so oblivious. After his actions against Stark’s realm, the man was certainly angry enough to be caught up in the threads of the awful spell under which he was now placed. 

 

Loki had curled up in desperation, doing whatever he could to protect his weak body. In vain, his muscles strained as he attempted to crawl out of reach. However, the only progress he made was to become even more pathetic. Even as more blows rained down, Loki instantly regretted the thought. He should not wish to escape punishment when it was his own actions that had brought down this correction upon himself. To call his body weak was to imply that his master should be in some way responsible for that. 

 

He did his best to right himself, and made a futile effort to force his legs into a kneeling position. He knew his place. 

 

His limbs shook from the strain, and he collapsed once more. His master seemed to care not, as he continued his punishment. Although he had said not a word to the man, Loki knew that his master was well within his right to punish him. 

 

After all, after the destruction he had caused, what more could he expect. Surely it had been his own stupidity that had led him to be so unprepared for this eventuality. As he looked back soon the events of 3 Midgardian years ago, he found it difficult to remember why he had raged such violence and destruction upon this realm. Of course he did believe still that the people of Midgard were weak and corrupt. But was that not the same everywhere in the Nine? Was it not the same on... on... 

 

As soon as the thought tried to form in his mind, it was beyond his grasp. He did his best to mentally clench hold of the thought and draw it back to his consciousness, but it evaded him with all the cunning deviousness of himself only a short decade ago. His attempt at continuing his train of thought but it was as useless as trying to gain the forgiveness of Thor once more. Impossible. It drifted out of his mind, and he found it difficult to even recall what he had been thinking about. 

 

All that disappeared in a flash.

 

It took him a few seconds to register the fact that the blows had stopped. Faintly, he could hear a sound behind the ringing sensation in his ears. He did his best to focus. His master was speaking, and a good slave should be paying attention at all times 

 

It had never occurred to him that the spell would have bound him to the Man of Iron, this... mortal. But as he lay in the growing pool of his own blood, he understood. His actions had been inexcusable, and this pain was only a tiny piece of retribution for his wrongdoings. 

 

“You little shit. How dare you... return here. I can’t fucking believe it.”

 

Every word was spat with loathing. Loki could barely make out the words over the faint ringing in his ears. His Master was rightfully furious, and he could only wishfully envisage the end of his punishment. A good slave shouldn’t be wishing to stop his Master melting out justifies punishment, and even as he tried to deny it to himself, he couldn’t- after all, he and Thor had too grown up with their own slaves. He had many a time punished her, melting out a thrashing for a number of misdemeanors. He found it impossible to persuade himself that this could possibly be anything other than deserved retribution for his own transgressions. 

 

A hand grabbed his neck, and lifted him off the ground. As his body was manhandled out of its position collapsed upon the ground, he pressed his lips together in agony. He did his best to take his punishment stoically, but he knew he was not succeeding. He couldn’t help the fear that thrummed throughout his entire body, filling his veins, brain and nervous with a petrifying energy. 

 

He was unused to this feeling of powerlessness. He had always been able to smite any enemy with his seidr without difficulty. He had always toyed with his conquests before swiftly taking their lives, doing his best to gain the approval of Thor and their Father. Always a weak child, he knew that his family had never been proud of him. On the contrary, he had been punished a multitude of times by the Allfather for taking the ‘cowards escape.’ And using his magic to trick his enemies and capture them without violence. He had always been encouraged to use his skills as a warrior and lay aside any ‘womanly urges’ he had. 

 

The movement aggravated his wounds. He knew his much have some broken ribs by the way each breathe felt like poison was dripping down his throat. His lips parted and his breathe was heaving. The small pants of breath did nothing to oxygenate his body. 

 

Although he knew it would take far more that this to kill him, he felt the agony nonetheless and wished with a desperation he would have never believed he could ever possess that mercy would be bestowed upon him. He knew he was now weak, and a past self would have scorned any enemy for debasing themselves in such a humiliating manner. But he cared no longer about his pride. Anyway, what did pride matter when he was already a slave. Slaves had no pride to talk about, and existed only for their Master’s use. He had plenty of experience on that side, and he knew he would soon have a significant amount of experience on the other side. 

 

“Please. S-Stark”. His voice came out in little more than a hoarse whisper. He hated the weakness in his voice as much as he hated himself. 

 

He sensed before he saw his Master’s fury, and he shrank back slightly. “Shut up. SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Stark leaned in close and bellowed into his face. Spittle landed on Loki’s face, mingling with the tears and filthy sweat streaked across it. The fist around his throat clenched slightly, whether involuntarily from anger or deliberately he did not know. At this point, he couldn’t really care. He felt his airway tighten and begin to close up, the pressure from the metal fist combined with his injuries becoming too much.

 

His throat felt tight and it was difficult to draw in breaths. Each time he inhaled, a wheezing sound escaped his mouth, and a rattling coming from his chest. His vision began to darken, and Loki felt the burning in his lungs intensify. Although Stark was continuing to shake him, he had not the energy to pay attention to the words his master was uttering. Slowly, his body fell limp in his Master’s grasp, and his world went dark. 

 

******

 

The first thing he noticed was the darkness as he opened his eyes. Rough fabric surrounded his head, blocking out the light. Desperately, he blinked, holding his vision would suddenly reappear. 

 

It did not work.

 

The darkness remained, blocking him off from the outside world. His heart pounded. He hated the feeling of unknowing. There could be anybody in the room right now, one of the many enemies he had made in his lifetime, watching him panic. Perhaps Stark was even standing at his feet, enjoying watching his slave at his most vulnerable. The blackness felt like he was trapped in a world of his own; it made him feel claustrophobic and agitated. 

 

Loki felt panic rise in his throat as he felt a large object in his mouth, pressing down upon his tongue. It felt round and hard, unmoving against mouth. Tightly, it pressed against his dry and peeling lips, enough that he struggled to swallow, let alone speak. It reminded him of the dungeons in Asgard before his banishment, when the guards had gagged him with the metal cage, which had been placed across his head and cramped around his tongue. His voice had always been his greatest weapon, and without it and his sight, he had never felt as exposed and defenseless as he did at that moment. The gag felt heavy and he as he tried to move his jaw, he succeeded only in straining it. 

 

Slow minutes past, and he lay. Now that he was alone, without his sight and complete silence in the room, he began to feel stifled. If not for the hard surface beneath his body, he might have believed he was dead, or floating. His body felt like it was separate from his mind. His brain was full of fear, and without any visual or audio stimulation, he was left with only his own imagination to fill in the silence. He thought about what his life would be like from now and forward. He knew his Master would never care for him, and he wouldn’t never again have the comfort of the benefits awarded to him as Asgardian royalty. Not even would be ever experience his brothers love. 

 

His life now was to be whatever his Master desired. Is Stark wanted to beat him every day, he could. Deny him food, he could. Humiliate him, he could. Torture, abuse, starvation; he knew what his life was to be, and these thought succeeded only in making him feel even more hysterical over his predicament. It might be hours, days, before Stark returned for him. Perhaps longer. He was stricken with terror at the thought of being left in this way for an extended amount of time. 

 

He instinctively tried to stretch his limbs, but was unsuccessful. At first he assumed it was simply from the weakness that had been existent for what felt like eternity. However, he soon realized he was being restricted by heavy loops of metal binding his body down. Straining slightly, he tried to sit up. 

 

As his attempts were unsuccessful, Loki felt the heavy loops of unmoving metal looped around his wrist, forearm, neck, waist and ankles attaching him to a stiff, unyielding surface. 

 

A shivering sensation ran down his spine. He was stuck. Trapped to the table. Who knew what Stark wanted with him. His breathing hitched and became faster, adrenaline and panic flooding his veins as soon as his brain processed his situation. In desperation, his arms tugged harshly against their binds. They were unmoving.

 

His fear quickly translated into panic. He couldn’t help the paralyzing feeling of helplessness that took over. He could feel sweat droplets forming all over his body, the moisture seeping through the rags adorning his body. He could hear a distant ringing in his ears, and felt disorientated, both feelings made worse but the lack of sound or visual input. Quickly, he felt his breathing begin to shorten. Pant. Pant. 

 

He could not see.

 

Pant.

 

He couldn’t speak. 

 

Pant .

 

He couldn’t hear. 

 

Pant. 

 

Loki could feel the sweat dripping down his temples and upper lip, the salty liquid dripping onto his lips. His chest was heaving, and he could feel his injuries from Stark being aggravated. His cracked ribs rattled alarmingly in his chest as he gasped for air. It felt like Man of Iron was laying with his suit on, on top of his chest, pushing down. The pressure was unbearable, it felt like he was dying. 

 

“Mr Odinson. Mr ODINSON.” 

 

Instinctively, Loki attempted to twist his head in the direction of the voice. Who was that? Had his suspicions been valid? Who had Stark left to monitor and do knew what else? He immediately regretted moving it as the strip of metal restricting his forehead became minutely tighter, not enough to cause harm, but enough for him to feel the uncomfortable pressure. It pressed against his skin, and as he began to feel lightheaded, he wondered if he was truly about to leave for Hel, or if the circulation had been cut off by the restrains. He was sure there was no oxygen in the room, why else would his lungs feel like acid? Again, dark circles began to appear in front of his eyelids. At this point, his heart was racing wildly, and despite his best efforts it felt like no air was being received by his lungs. 

 

He had never felt like this before, and wondered if he was dying. He hoped he was. 

 

“Mr Odinson, you appear to be suffering from a severe panic attack. Please attempt to relax your muscles and breathe slowly.” The voice spoke again. 

 

Rather than feeling reassured, he felt helpless and scared. There was a person in the room with him, and he was weak and totally unable to defend himself. 

 

Vulnerable. 

 

A feeling he had never before felt. 

 

Helplessness. 

 

He knew not who this person was, and what they intended to do to him. His muscles burned from the builds up of lactic acid, and it was difficult to focus his senses to figure out who else was present. Without enough energy to use his seidr to survey the rooms inhabitants, he was weak. As he did his best to focus his thoughts, a realization came to him. It must be a minion of Starks. Probably here to test him. A terrible feeling of sickness overcame him, as he recalled his behavior since awakening. He had attempted to do naught but escape the clutches of his Master. The man who may not have a legal right, but something far more meaningful and powerful over his life.

 

The nausea grew. His stomach lurched violently. 

 

No. This can’t be happening. He was going to fail. Fail this test his master had designed for him. Or punishment. Whichever it was, test or punishment, he deserved it, and should be receiving it gratuitously; not behaving in this way. 

 

His stomach cramped again, and he swallowed, trying fruitfully to prevent the event he knew was moments away. It was in vain, and a second later, he felt bile forcefully making its way up his throat. 

 

He felt it at the back of his mouth and instinctively tried to raise his head to expel the substance. Less than a second later he realized it was an impossible feat to achieve in his current predicament. The bitter liquid began to slide back down his throat, flooding his lungs. The gag in his mouth and his horizontal position prevented him from being able to easily swallow, and he started to cough violently. 

 

His lungs burned like they had never done before, and he clawed desperately at the surface beneath him, digging and scratching his fingernails into the metal. He couldn’t draw a single breath. He was choking and coughing and he knew that nobody was coming to help him. Nobody cared. After a few moments of thrashing, his body collapsed and stilled, falling slack. A single tear dripped from the corner of his eye.

 

Slaves don’t burden free men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww poor Loki! Hope you enjoyed, let me know any scene requests you might like to see between Tony and Loki. Next chapter is written and will be posted next Saturday after it is edited.


	3. The Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wakes up after passing out in the last chapter. We get to see some of Tony's thoughts for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this chapter is horribly late. I've been awfully sick over the past week and havn't gotten round to posting this chapter. I'm really sorry for the delay. But it's here now and it's a fairly long one, so enjoy!

Loki groaned. He slowly peeled his eyelids apart, expecting the same darkness that had greeted him upon his previous wakening. He was pleasantly surprised to see find light in the room. The light burned his eyes, and he closed them and slowly worked on adjusting them to the brightness. His relief at the ability to see once again was swiftly forgotten as he became aware of the lack of restraints holding him down, as had been present before. He didn’t know for how long he had been unconscious, but he was sure that he was still residing in Starks abode. He was lying on his back, on what felt softer and smoother than he could remember ever lying on since the days before his failed attempt at conquering this realm. Looking back, he could not understand why he had bothered. He had never before had such an interest in this realm, believing himself superior to the beings on this planet. 

 

Confusion ran though his mind as he wondered why he had been released. As he looked around the room, his confusion only grew. Although surely simple by the standards of a noblemen such as Stark, and simply appalling in the eyes of Asgardian royalty, he couldn’t help but gasp at the luxury that lay before him. He had once considered extravagant, lavishly decorated quarters a necessity, however he was no longer as egotistical. He now understood the luxury a simple place to sleep and basic amenities were, and appreciated the fact that many were unable to have even that. 

 

He himself had been in that position for many years now. Which was why he did not understand why he had been moved to this location. Why had Stark left him in the room, despite everything. Despite his anger the previous day. Was it the previous day? He wasn’t sure how long ago his beating from his Master had been. The only scenario he could think of was this all being a cruel and elaborate deception on the other man’s part. His Master had probably left him here to test him. See if he would behave as would be expected of a slave, or if he would take advantage of the room. He knew his place. He would not disappoint his master. 

 

Although he was able to move freely, he couldn’t fail to notice that he remained gagged. His jaw was aching and burning, the muscles protesting at being help in this position for who know how long now. He hoped his might be allowed to remove it, but held little belief that his wishes would be well received by Stark. After all, a mortal Master had to insure that he was protected against the magic of his slave in some way. His Master was probably unaware that the spell he was under prevented him from being able to use any seidr that had he not been explicitly granted permission to use by his Master. Without this knowledge, he supposed the only way Stark could stop him from casting spells was prevent him from being able to utter them in the first instance. 

 

After a few moments have passed from his awakening, he noticed a tingling his skin. It ran over his entire body. He didn’t understand why he had not noticed it previously. He could now see a light thrum throughout the underneath of his skin. It pricked slightly; it was an unsettling feeling, not made any better by the fact that he hadn’t the lightest idea what it’s cause was. He noticed the cuffs that adorned the both of his wrists, smith and shiny. They appeared to have no opening, and entire ring smooth and continuous. He felt anxious thinking about both the metal cuffs and the unsettling sensation travelling around his body. He couldn’t help the nervousness at the thought that the two were connected. What was its function and why had his master seen fit to apply it to him? 

 

Slowly, he sat up. His muscles protested the movement, aching deep inside. As he moved into an upright position, he noticed that the burning feeling in his ribs had settled somewhat. He looked down in surprise His fingers reached beneath the black t shirt he was wearing. When had his t-shirt been changed? Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of the fact the someone, perhaps even Stark himself, had undressed him and seen his naked body. He felt queasy and violated at the thought. He would never know what Stark had done to him whist he had been unconscious. Although the pads of his fingers ran across a textured material wrapped around his torso. Lifting his shirt up his eyes wondered down to the plain white bandages wrapped tightly around his midsection. He stared. Wha-what? Why had his Master done this? His eyes were glued to the material. Suddenly, he felt unbalanced. As he looked, he felt a lump form in his throat. What would his Master want in payment for his generosity? 

 

xxxxxxx

 

Tony sighed. He had left the room instantly after the God had fallen unconscious in his grasp. The sick pleasure and joy he had felt at the control and power over the other had dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. The anger he felt at the other man was still smoldering underneath, but he knew he had to leave before he ended up murdering Thor’s brother. He had shocked himself at the sheer magnitude of his anger, but felt it was deserved. After all, Loki has randomly appeared in his front room. When his eyes had first landed on the God, he couldn’t help the flash of fear. The last time the two of them had been in the room together, Loki had picked him up like a rag doll and thrown him into the glass window, plunging towards the hard ground. If he hadn’t deployed his suit as soon as he had, he might have been does right now. The terror he felt in those few seconds had never left him, even now after years had passed since the events. 

 

Now the God was back, and Tony knew the only reason mucky he because the other had come to finish what he had started. God, that sounded like a cheesy villain’s line in the numerous bond villains. Ha. But it was all he could think of. So had had acted as soon as the flash of light had appeared. His iron man suit had quickly melted across his body, the nanites slithering out of the arc reactor and into place. Without even thinking, all the pent up rage came flooding out upon Loki’s body. He had pounded his fists down again and again, using all his strength. He had put all of his effort into truly hurting the God, trying to inflict the same pain into him, that he had been living with for years. 

 

Looking back, he was sure that any other human would have died very quickly. When he had seen the state of the other man later, he was honestly a little relieved that he had still been living. A part of him had worried the other would have simply died from his treatment. Although he felt it was nothing less than Loki deserved, he knew it would have left a bitter taste in his mouth if he had been responsible for Loki’s death. 

 

Tony walked over the wine fridge, and selected a rich red bottle of wine. He poured it slowly, and then went to sit down. Swirling the liquid gently, he thought about when he was going to do with the God. At first, in anger and vindictiveness he had left Loki tied up in one of the cells on the other floor. However, he remembered when JARVIS’ voice had spoken, he would have said urgently if AI’s could even show emotion. 

 

When he had arrived in the cell, he saw Loki frothing at the mouth, a white liquid pouring out the edges of his lips around the gag. JARVIS told him Loki had started panicking and had choked on his own vomit. Although he tried to tell himself Loki had got nothing he didn’t deserve, he felt shaken at the thought that he had almost, albeit unintentionally, killed the God for a second time. 

 

It was clear Loki had fallen unconscious, he had swiftly untied him and removed the gag to clear his airway and make sure the man didn’t die on him, as he was doing that, he couldn’t help but notice the thin rags he was dressed in. He ignored the voice in his head asking him why Loki was dressed like that, and instead had ended up getting one of his own old tops and sweats and redressed Loki in them. 

 

He had thought it would be difficult, but Loki’s body had in fact been surprisingly thin and light. If he didn’t know better, he would say Loki had looks half starved. He saw the bruises and cuts on Loki’s skin, and he was sure he had heard the cracking of Loki’s ribs under his fist the day before. Before he knew what he was doing, he wrapped the Gods body in bandages. After all, he might hate the god, but he was no killer. He didn’t want Thor’s wrath raining down on him when he realized he had tortured his little brother. 

 

…Adopted brother. Whatever. 

 

He had left Loki’s body, still unconscious in one of the smallest guest rooms in his quarters, locked the door, and had come here. He didn’t know what do with the God. What did one do with an unwanted house quest who had incidentally also tried to kill him and take over the world. He wished Pepper was here, he was sure she would know what to do. But he also worried that seeing Loki might unhinge her. It was probably better to deal with him himself before involving his fiancé. The last thing he wanted was Pepper getting nightmares over Loki’s return. 

 

But as he sat, he couldn’t help the feeling of anger and annoyance. Why had Loki decided to come back now? To continue with his attempt, to kill him? He was glad he had reacted quickly and summoned his suit, or else there might have been a Stark-Shaped splat on the sidewalk. 

 

If only Thor was here, he thought. Then he could just hand over the cookoo brother over to him to deal with. What in the world was he supposed to do with him? 

 

He rolled his eyes internally. Hadn’t Asgard been supposed to punish Loki? Instead Fairy-Land-in-the-Sky had apparently released(?)...lost(?) Loki. He did consider calling Shield and just handing over Loki to them, but something was stopping him. He didn’t quite trust Shield to handle the situation delicately enough. Knowing Fury, he would just go ahead and kill Loki where he stood. After all, Loki had almost murdered Coulson. 

 

And if he didn’t kill Loki, he could only imagine that Shield would be salivating at the idea of getting their goddamn greedy fingers on the science behind Loki’s magical powers. Interfering with things they didn’t understand had been what had started this whole mess, trying to harness power from the tesseract without true understanding of what it does. Greed. 

 

And he was pretty certain Shield would make the same mistake with Loki. God know what kind of mad scientists Shield employed, who would just love to perform a vivisection on an exotic, war criminal alien. No, he couldn’t, in good conscious, allow Shield to get their hands on the bastard. Even forgetting the disaster that was almost certain to occur when they tried to harvest Loki’s magic, he could already feel a migraine coming on just by thinking about the diplomatic problems Earth would get into when Thor returned to the news that his precious brother had been dissected like some sort of lab rat.

 

So the question remained; what do with the God currently unconscious in the other room. He felt slightly bad for the physical assault he had carried out on Loki. But considering how many lives Loki had taken without a second thought, a beating was probably the least he deserved. 

 

He decided that he would leave the gag in, at least for now. Hopefully it would stop Loki from doing any hocus pocus shit whilst he decided what to do with him. Anyway, he wasn’t too worried about that. While unconscious, he had had clamped Magic Inhibitors around Loki’s wrists. He had been working on them since Loki’s attempted world domination. In theory, they should siphon the magic out of Loki and convert it into a harmless electromagnetic field, extending a short radius around each bracelet, simply a matter of inches. 

 

Hopefully this would keep Loki nice and human, at least as human as a thousands-of-years-old God could possibly be. It should prevent baby brother from being able to cast any mumbo jumbo on him. He was not looking to mirror Clint’s dreadful experience under Loki’s mind control, that was for certain. 

 

“Sir, Mr Odinson has awoken.” JARVIS spoke calmly. 

 

He sighed. He should probably go and speak to Loki. He had to lay down the rules to the other man, and make it clear that Loki was his prisoner while he was here, until he could find his shiny king-brother Thor, to hand him over to. He stood up, “Thanks J. What’s he doing?”

 

“Mr Odinson appears to be examining the bracelets sir.” 

 

Tony smirked. Loki probably didn’t understand when they did, but he was damn well sure the other man would be able to feel the slightly odd feeling of the electromagnetic field from the brackets. Although humans couldn’t sense it, Asgardians probably could. 

 

JARVIS continued. “He has already left his bed and is now seated down in the corner against the wall.” 

 

Hmmm. That was odd. What was Loki doing on the floor? He couldn’t envisage the image of the proud God he remembered from years ago sitting on the floor like a child. 

 

As he approached the door, he activated his suit, after all, he didn’t want to take any chances with this nutjob, fuck-up of a God. He paused, waiting for the familiar feeling of the nanites molding together and clicking into place. He retracted the head to give himself full mobility and visibility, then spoke. 

 

“JARVIS, unlock the door, would you buddy. I’ve got a God to deal with.” 

 

“Indeed, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone liked this chapter, despite it being late. I promise the next chapter is written and will definitely be up this Saturday. It just needs some editing. Please leave some feedback! The next chapter will have Tony and Loki finally talking (kinda!). Have a great day and week guys!


	4. They finally talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Loki finally talk to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Loki’s head shot up in the direction of the door. The lock had clicked, and a second later his Master walked fully suited up. He understood that his Master thought he needed the protection, probably being unaware that his slave was unable to use magic. 

 

Now that he thought about it, Master probably didn’t even know he was a slave. How would he? After all, the spell had been cast and he had appeared in the middle of the man’s abode. He himself hadn’t expected to arrive here. 

 

He decided to speak up and tell his Master what had happened. Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he realized that he was still gagged. His jaws were burning with pain by the buildup of lactic acid in his muscles. Hopefully Master would remove the gag now that he was here. Then he could explain everything and then beg for his Master’s forgiveness and mercy. He had no desire for another beating so soon from the last, particularly while his injuries weren’t even close to healing. 

 

Master moved closer to his place in the corner. Absently, he wondered why he had been left in a room with a bed, but he knew it surely wasn’t for his use. Perhaps Master was checking to see if he knew his place. Certainly, he wouldn’t use it unless given explicit permission. 

 

“Right Loki. This is a shitty position we are in.” Master spoke, annoyance in his voice. “I wasn’t expecting any intergalactic visitors, so please do excuse my cold welcoming.” 

 

Master sighed seemingly in exasperation, although Loki wasn’t sure what he had done to annoy the other man so, and rolled his eyes. “Thor’s not here, and seeing as you aliens don’t have any mobile phones… or basically any ways of contacting each other without summoning a giant rainbow and scorching people’s lawns, I guess you will have to stay here for now.” 

 

So his Master didn’t know about the spell. Salves must remain in the household of their masters every night, and could not spend extended amounts of time away, even during the day. If he left Masters house, the spell would first punish him, and then kill him if he did not return. 

 

His Master continued, and he quickly returned his attention, not wanting to miss anything. Tony clenched his fists slightly, and took another step forward. “So listen here Loki, trust me, by staying here, you’re definitely getting the better end of the deal.” 

 

Tony smirked. “I could just hand you over to Clint you know.” 

 

Loki’s heart ran cold. For second, a crazy moment of madness, he had contemplated not telling Stark he was his Slave. Keeping that information to himself. 

 

His plan of rebellion was destroyed before it had even truly taken root. 

 

If Master handed him over to Barton, he was sure the spell wouldn’t matter. He would be dead before the spell even tried to punish him. He knew Barton would love nothing less than to hurt him in the same way he had violated the other man years ago. He could hear his heart beat echo in his head as he waited with bated breath to hear what his Master said next.

 

“Luckily for you, I’m pretty sure Thor wants you back in one piece, so you’re stuck with me for now, Reindeer Games.” 

 

Loki released a minute sigh of relief around the gag. Currently, there was no way he could explain his situation to his Master, and why he had appeared in the man’s home. He knew his Master thought he had simply decided to turn up, probably to repeat the attack he had carried out years ago. He had to explain that this was not the case. 

 

Hesitantly, he lifted a bruised hand and pointed toward the ball gag still in his mouth. His hopes of having it removed were dashed when his Master began to laugh, nastily. “Yeah bud, you wish I was going to remove it. That stays in your mouth for as long as you stay in my house. If it wouldn’t be such a hassle to clean up the blood, I might have just cut your tongue out myself.” 

 

Loki drew his knees closer to his chest and felt tears come to his eyes. He remembered the pain years ago when Thor had held him down and the Allfather had sawed his tongue out, as punishment for using magic in a warrior’s duel. He said it would teach him to rely on a cowardly and weak way of fighting. Eventually, the healers had been given permission to regrow it. However, he had never lost the feeling of agony as the flesh, muscles, and nerves had been torn apart, cruelly severed from his mouth by his own brother and father. The memory tortured him many a night, and he couldn’t help but feel dread at the thought of it happening once again. 

 

He blinked once, and the tears over spilled over his cheeks. 

 

His master stared for a few seconds, then started. “Yeah, well I think that’s all. You’re free to wander around on this floor only. Basically, you stay out of my way and we should get along swimmingly.” His master grinned, a malicious glint in his eyes, and Loki knew that the other man would be itching to get any reason to punish him again. 

 

His master turned abruptly and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Loki remained in his position on the floor, shivering slightly.

 

Xxx

 

Tony stepped out of the shower and began to towel himself off. Damn, he couldn’t keep the image of the God out of his mind. The man had, quite frankly, looked pathetic sitting in the corner of the room like that. It was difficult for him to assimilate the bastard who had wreaked havoc in the city years back, to the guy huddled in his guest room down the corridor. 

 

He had told JARVIS to let him know if Loki did anything odd in his room, or decided to leave it for any reason. Although he had technically given him permission to do so, he privately hoped the other man didn’t, because he wasn’t really looking to see his face any more than was necessary. Contrary to the anger he had felt at first, he was beginning to feel a little bad for the man. He was being silly really. It was just that looking at Loki’s face had brought up some feelings he wasn’t quite comfortable with. 

 

He knew that logically the gag made sense, because magic inhibitors or not, a second back up couldn’t hurt. The god wouldn’t be able to remove it himself without seriously damaging his face. Only he would be able to, with the small key he had locked in his lab. 

 

The was Loki had pointed at the gag with a glimmer of hope in his eyes had given him a moment of weakness. He had almost, almost been about to just remove it. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t take that risk of Loki going crazy and deciding to take another shot at chucking him off the building. 

 

To be quite honest, he justified to himself, the gag wouldn’t hurt Loki, and it was an easy-ish was to ensure his own safety for the time being. …So why did the idea leave a slightly bitter taste in his mouth?

 

Xxx

 

Loki wasn’t sure how long had passed. Perhaps few hours, judging by the movement of the sun outside his window. The sky was a sunset orange, the ball of light dipping slightly below the horizon. 

 

He hadn’t bothered to get up. After all, slaves didn’t use furniture without express permission, and he sure wasn’t going to aggravate a Master that had made it perfectly clear what his punishment would be. No, he certainly wasn’t looking for another beating. 

 

His throat tickled slightly. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he could feel a slight stinging in his throat, and an instinctual urge to cough. He did his best, but his breath was stifled by the gag, and his muscles felt too weak to truly clear his lungs completely. After a few moments of half-coughs and spluttering, he hadn’t achieved much, other than small droplets of saliva dripping down the corners of his cheeks. 

 

His lungs desperately needed clearing, but there wasn’t much he could do in this situation. He debated trying to signal his situation to his Master the next time he returned, but quickly decided against it. Better keep a slightly uncomfortable feeling than risk humiliation when his Master refuses to assist him. 

 

His eyes felt wary as he sat, the sky slowly turning dark orange, blue and now a navy, inky colour. He guessed his Master had gone to bed by now. He would have to ensure he woke early tomorrow to be ready to complete all his tasks. He subconsciously tensed his body as he wondered what the next day would bring? What the rest of his life would bring…

 

There was a bed in the room, but it was surely not for a slave’s use. Perhaps it was, but more likely than not it wasn’t. Although his Master did not yet know he was a slave, he knew not to use it. His Master must be testing him, trying to catch him out for another punishment. He knew the only place for a slave was the floor. He felt grateful for the warmth in the room anyway. He definitely was not greedy. 

 

Remaining in his corner, he shifted sideways to give himself space to lay on the carpeted floor. He coughed a few times, the sound muffled but the gag. His ribs rattled from the exertion. He curled inwards on himself, his head resting on the ground, and closed his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you like, or think I could improve on. I love reading your comments! Have a great week everyone :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! What did you think? Is there anything you would like to see in this story? And what could I improve on? Thank you so much for taking the time to read my fic :)


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